Better Than I Know Myself
by sasaengandfab
Summary: Sometimes, you don't know how much of a good thing you have until it's gone. And sometimes, someone knows you a lot better than you know yourself. Songfic.


The world as they saw it through tarnished eyes was divided into two cells - one of life, and one of death. Where the air was light, the sun shone through cracked windows, illuminating the room with a golden yet desperate glow. It illustrated peace, and the release of anger, but the lingering affects of sorrow. The atmosphere was calm and sterile, and very well-balanced. The walls were lined with pipes that connected to an oxygen regulator, keeping the air clean and still, just the way she liked it. She was happy in her own little world inside of this one room, where the world would be perfect, and you could pass happily in luxurious solitude.

But she was not happy. She did not enjoy her perfect world. In fact it was much a torture. She was lonely and empty, and without a soul to fill her, she was not happy. She shut the light away from herself as much as possible, taping the curtains to the window as to keep them still. There was nothing she wished for more than to have her once-perfect life back. But that memory was shattered, forgotten, and the relationship she once cherished was absolutely shattered. It was no longer possible to repair things amongst them.

She loved him to death, and wanted nothing more than to construct the perfect relationship between the two of them. But he was too different, and trying to fix all these flaws about him was hurting him in more ways than she could see. The trust between them was splintered, and he became the one thing that all guys become after a bad breakup - single. He took an interest in a childhood friend, and being a freshly-dumped civilion, she grew very upset and went on a rampage, tearing apart every single memory they had together.

She never realized how good of a gift she had until it was forever stolen from her grip.

All she ever wanted was to say how sorry she was, how stupid she was, how selfish she was. She just wanted him back. He was the only one that really knew her better than she did. She was his Princess, his pride and joy. He had betrayed her and she had shunned him. It was much more than a present-day story of the beauty and the beast. They never spoke one word to one another again after the fight. They simply lived out their lives as heartbroken and misunderstood adolescents. They knew nothing of how one felt about the other. They knew nothing of how much they meant to each other. They simply never got another chance to tell each other.

Her room was tidy, and yet it was a mess. Everything was put in plain view for her ease on shelves and on the vanity. The furniture was worn, few stains on the brown cushions. Books were strewn about the room, some empty, others with pages bent and folded. She had lost her tidy positive edge. She had grown weak, spineless, intimidated by the simplest things. She thought perhaps reading would bring back the old her, the old confident, boastful, proud girl she once was. She held a diary in her open, dusty hands, looking down at the melancholy ink sprawled in swirls along blue lines. Her diary was her friend, the only one she could spell all of her feelings to. She knew she still loved him; she knew she was sorry. She knew what she did was inhumanly selfish. She wished she could tell him to his face.

She looked up at the wall mirror, staring at the blank, pale entity of herself. God, she was a mess. She wore nothing but a long brown tunic and long socks, never seeking the courage to get dressed for the day. Her very dark, honey-colored eyes were dull as a butter knife. _What are you looking at, you bitch? _She said internally, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth. _Get the hell up and do something._

A sigh escaped her lips, and she glanced up at the oxygen regulator. _100%._ If it ever stooped below about 10%, she would suffocate and eventually perish.

Glancing back at the mirror, she felt a tear fall, knowing that behind that very wall, was the darker cell, and was the one person she wanted to be with the most.

_Cold as ice_

She felt herself shake trying to hold back tears as she whispered out words to him, whether or not he could hear her.

_And more bitter than a December winter night_

_That's how I treated you_  
><em><br>_How desperate was she to make word to him. _Come on. Hear me. I need you._ __

_And I know that I_

She slammed the book closest to her closed and dropped it carelessly on the floor, leaning forward soon after and holding her forehead in her palms. 

_I sometimes tend to lose my temper_

_And I cross the line_

_Yeah, that's the truth..._

She willed herself to get up, walking over to the mirror. She placed her palms against the cool quicksilver, heart aching and face moist. She got a little louder, hoping he could hear her. If only he could hear her.

_I know it gets hard sometimes_

_But I could never_

A small thud landed on her chest, and she glanced down, staring at the wooden skull woven into black thread. It was a locket, given to her by him years ago, when they were still wildly keen for each other. That night, she had left, but not without being given a small skull, carved by his very own nimble, passionate hands. She had kept a picture of them tucked inside of it and locked it up ever since. Ever since that fight, she had never once unlocked it.__

_Leave your side_

_No matter what I say_

She ripped the thread from her throat, earning herself burns in little red streaks, and it took quite a valiant effort to tear through the cord. It fell from her limp hand, dropping onto the dull worn wooden flooring, tumbling a few inches before stopping.

_'Cause if I wanted to go_

_I would've gone by now_

_But I really need you near me_

_To keep my mind off the edge_

She felt her body heave with sobs, and she fell to the ground, curling up into a fetal position. What was the point of trying anymore? He couldn't hear her. It was obvious. This room was all she would ever know now, all she would ever remember. She wondered why she was even still alive. It was only a matter of time before she would take her life. She only lived to be with him. And without him, she would not live. It was that simple. Oh how easy it would be to simply cut off the oxygen regulator, the lack of breathable air choking her and leaving her deprived. __

_If I wanted to leave_

_I would have by left by now_

_But you're the only one that knows me_

_Better than I know myself..._

She pulled her legs to her chest, feeling her hot tears drip onto her patched skin and leak down her thighs in little trails. "Duncan...where are you?"

o 0 o O o 0 o

The room was dim and gray, with no life whatsoever to its appearance. The sun was a cold, heartless shade of blue, filling the room with shame and grief. It was a dark feeling, almost of hatrid and distrust. It was obvious the room was meant for endless solitude and isolation. The walls were plain, the dull paint chipping and peeling, the room pungent with the scent of musk and blood. The skulls of miscellaneous animals were nailed tightly to the wall as decoration, the slack-jawed expressions matching the cracked windows. The plants were dead and scrawny, splintering and reaching out at every which way. The furniture was black and worn, and the wall shelves were filled with bottles of rum, gin, and bags of various explosive items. There were matches, firecrackers, bottle rockets, flints, lighters, gun powder canisters, wicks, flash powder, tubs of kerosene, and nitroglycerin. There was various torture equipment in place of side coffee tables and such. All that was intended to cause pain, was covered in metal spikes both large and small. The dark table in the middle of the room was piled with bottles of rye and vodka, and shot glasses stacked within each other.

_All along_

He ran his fingers through his dark hair with such rage, such ferociousness, such urgency. This was crazy; he couldn't be feeling like this. He hated her, he despised her. She ruined him. She ruined the trust between him and goth girl by making up an obscene lie that he had made out with her behind the girl's back. It was all jealousy. She was jealous, and intended on making him feel the same. It was mutiny from the very first breath.__

_I tried to pretend it didn't matter_

_If I was alone_

His hand trailed across an open bottle of Skyy and he drank himself down, eyes twitching after release. The feeling of being absolutely wasted was amazing to him; he always did reckless and ballsy things that he was amazed hadn't gotten him arrested in a while. It was a gift to him, to lose all cares and just relax. He just couldn't help but stare at the wall mirror. What if he looked up and saw her gloating face and locked jaw?__

_But deep down I know_

_If you were gone_

The madness washed over him like a plague. Why was he acting so strangely lately? He was so out of character it was frightening. He began to stir, glancing around various points of the room. He would scrape at his clothing as if it were irritating his skin. Clad in a black vest, matching vinyl pants, dark hiking boots, and a black cloak, he saw no reason to be experiencing such reaction. He looked up at the small mirror opposite the wall with the full mirror and saw his eyes were raw and red. His irises were extremely bright blue, so stunning that they seemed to glow.__

_For even a day_

_I wouldn't know which_

_Way to turn_

He stared at his reflection, snarling sadistically and dumping the vodka onto the carpet. He mocked his own person, challenging himself and laughing cynically. Like a mood swing, in an instant, he was no longer furious and deranged, but he was merciful and lonely. He stomped around, yanking things off of shelves and onto the floor, listening to the loud crashing of glass bottles and the dripping and sloshing of puddles of alcohol and kerosene.__

_'Cause I'm lost without you..._

He dug his nails into the sides of his head and growled, craning his neck around to stretch a tick. Oh, who was he fooling? He was mad for her and he knew it. She was the cause of his ailment.

_I know it gets hard sometimes_

The wall mirror seemed to melt into a looking glass, and in an instant he could see the inside of the lighter room. There she was, that bitch, looking up at him with a tearful face. She had gotten much thinner and slightly paler, and her hair had been shorn down to mere inches. _What had she done to herself? _He thought. _Fuck her._ Who could ever care about a wench like her?__

_But I could never_

_Leave your side_

He sported a ghastly smirk at her and watched her cower in response, lip quivering and feet taking her backwards a few notches. He held up her journal, the one she kept during camp and wrote all her feelings in, and began to tear the pages out carelessly and crumple them up, dropping them into the puddles. She was horrified, and began to scream for her journal and for him to spare it, but neither could hear each other. Exerting herself like this was pointless.__

_No matter what I say  
><em>  
>No, she was stronger than this. She was better than this. She wasn't going to let him take her pride away from her. She turned to straighten up her room whilst he threw everything across his in a rageful fit. Afraid that things were somehow ending up in her room, she felt the urge to clean. He yelled at her back, yelling for her to face him to be tormented. But she was better than this.<p>

She turned back around and yelled out the words to him, joining him and proving that she was strong, that she was still the brave woman she had always been.

_'Cause if I wanted to go_

_I would've gone by now_

She saw herself repeating the words, the sweet meaningful words, with no crying fits, and yet saw him breaking down as he paced about. It was obvious he was crying, but he seemed at war with himself. It seemed as if he was trying damn hard not to cry. _He's gone mad_, she thought. She held out a hand, to which he ignored and continued to throw things at the wall, and at her. She would shrivel up, afraid that the looking glass would shatter. If that broke, he would surely come into her room and attack her.__

_But I really need you near me_

_To keep my mind off the edge_

She felt a light turn on inside of her, a strength she never knew she had showing itself. She felt the tears subside, and began to pick up memoirs of them and show them to him. She found the locket and grinned weakly as she held it up, watching his expression turn dark and sadistic. __

_If I wanted to leave_

_I would have left by now_

He rubbed his arms, glancing at her every few seconds, watching as she gained the strength he once had. He was weak now, spineless, absolutely hopeless. But then he saw something that gave him an idea.__

A heart. He glanced at the corner and saw the replica of a real human heart that they had made together in health together. It was made of foam latex and soaked in red dye. He took the organ in his hands and squeezed it together, groaning in satisfaction as it began to tear and rip. He pressed his nails into the crevice and tore it in half, the dye pouring out from inside and falling into the puddles. _Then _he saw the tears return.__

_But you're the only one that knows me_

_Better than I know myself...  
><em>  
>He dropped the remains of the organ into the puddles and collapsed to his knees in the corner, as she collapsed onto her bed. This internal battle of two forces was tearing them up inside and driving them to the brink of insanity. She wanted him back dearly, and he wanted her dead dearly. It was inhuman almost, the change in emotions rather shocking.<p>

She stared at the ceiling, body heavy with regret.

_I get kind of dark_

_Let it go too far_

He clicked his lighter, watching intently as the the flame wavered under his breath. He ran his fingers through it, shuddering at the slight burn. __

_I can be obnoxious at times_

_But try and see my heart_

Their eyes met and the whole world trembled. She saw true sorrow in his eyes, true passion. She felt her eyes melt under his stare. She saw in an instant that the cause for his madness, was her. __

_'Cause I need you now_

_So don't let me down_

They both stood to face each other, faces hard and jaws locked. She tied the locket around her wrist, as he dropped his lighter to his feet.

The only problem was, he hadn't turned it off.

_You're the only thing in this world_

_That I would die without...  
><em>  
>He watched as the flames rose up and as she cowered backward. He saw her mouth to him, <em>What are you doing? <em>He was too pumped with adrenaline to temper with her rue any longer. He screamed out, arms outstretched.

_'Cause if I wanted to go_

_I would've gone by now_

_But I really need you near me_

_To keep my mind off the edge  
><em>  
>She yelled sweet words to him, which he refused to hear, as she banged on the glass. If the smoke came into her room, it would be the end. She couldn't afford the polluted air. There was no ventilation system in her room. It was all in his, and she sobbed as she realized it was there for a reason, and one reason only - to end her.<p>

_If I wanted to leave_

_I would have left by now_

Just as she had planned, he leapt across the room and drove his foot into the glass, shattering it. The smoke instantly floated in, suffocating every air pocket. It flowed into her lungs and she choked out her precious air.__

_But you're the only one that knows me_

_Better than I know myself..._

She fell, lungs seizing and fingers twitching. She coughed and coughed, trying to clear her lungs of this putrid air. Her body locked up suddenly, and she dragged herself over to the air tanks. A few bangs with her knuckles told her they were completely empty. The oxygen regulator was dropping at an alarming rate, and was now dipping just under 23%._  
><em>  
><em>'Cause if I wanted to go<em>

_I would've gone by now_

_But I really need you near me_

_To keep my mind off the edge_

With lifeless legs, she clawed at the carpet, pulling herself to the looking glass. She looked up at him with a pleading glance full of tears, and he stared down at her, anger crossing his glance. She fell limp as the oxygen regulator beeped urgently; it was at 0%. She was gone. He had killed her. His look of irritance was suddenly replaced with regret. What had he done? Fear flared in his eyes. _No, no, no, this can't be. Courtney...get up. Wake the fuck up. Princess...?_

His words did nothing for her. She was unresponsive and dead as his soul. He crawled through the gaping hole in the looking glass, and dove over her, hands on her shoulders instantly and curses being yelled out into the open air.__

_If I wanted to leave_

_I would have left by now_

He looked down and saw it. The skull. The one he had carved for her at summer camp, the night before she left. He had thought that was the last time he would see her, and he did what normal teenagers do - think impulsively. He loved her, and was not about to let his feelings slide. He wanted to show her what she meant to him. And ever since that fight, his feelings for her never resurfaced again. He had always thought they were dead and immobile.

He tied the locket around his neck and ran his fingers through her hair. Oh, how he always loved that soft brown hair of her. He always felt as if that were her very best asset. Her body was like a masterpiece, before he saw how anorexic she had become. Her legs were like branches, her arms like pocky sticks. Her stomach was slightly distended from the lack of proper nutrition. God, what has he done to her? He ruined her, that's what. He felt hot tears prick at the back of his eyes. He couldn't believe it was over.__

_But you're the only one that knows me_

_Better than I know myself..._

If only he could've seen how much he truly loved her.

If only she was still alive.

He picked up her frail and feather-light body and set it down comfortably on the bed, sprawling her limbs out as if she were sleeping. He felt his muscles quiver as he tried to offer a smile. And upon leaving her with sweet words, he kissed her goodnight.

o 0 o O o 0 o


End file.
